


Fated

by simplyFangirling413



Series: Fated [1]
Category: Homestuck, Original Work
Genre: Angel John, F/M, Nephilim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyFangirling413/pseuds/simplyFangirling413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is the illegal child of an Angel and a Human, often known as Nephilim. Due to being born was not John's fault, he had been allowed to live a fairly normal life, hidden under the cover of his apartment and lonely piano performances, though fearfully. He found his life to be okay, until one evening he comes across a beautiful young woman, who's persistence to get closer to the secretive boy, puts both of them in danger. Will John be able to convince his love that she's better off without him? Or will he give in and simply live a more fearful life, now for her sake more than his own?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is having one of his "moods" when an unsuspecting Lalonde wanders upon his normally dark and private apartment. John's not expecting anyone, and the girl listening through his door is only expecting an angry shouting and threatening of the cops, not John's unsuspecting reaction to another face at his doorstep. Their first meeting would definitely be unforgettable, for the both of them.

John Egbert sat in his private apartment complex on the floor above his practice hall. He was seated in front his open laptop, blankly staring at the just as blank computer screen while furiously clicking away at a pen. Shirtless, his bare back showed a white outline of wings that might be taken for an elaborate tattoo, if not for the white feathers that seemed to randomly protrude out of his back. Why was he doing this? If asked as he was now, he'd probably answer with a long, unrelated drabble about the ultimate purpose of the universe. Ask him tomorrow and he'd probably give that look of pained dread as he muttered the words "I have no fucking idea". It was just one of _those_ days that happened once every other month and each time it passed, he reflected on his own actions and cringed. He usually didn't have a problem being what he was, but these were the moments when he just wished he was fully human or fully angel. He didn't mind too much that his existence was considered a disgrace to all of angel-kind, the product of a crime as sinful as the taking of the forbidden fruit. It was punishable by death, as his parents had suffered. It was pure luck that his mother had been able to hide his existence until he was old enough to take care of himself. And as being born was not considered the fault of the child, John had been allowed to live on as a somewhat normal-ish human. But despite all these circumstances, his life was actually pretty good, living a pretty cushy life as a professional pianist prodigy at age 23. He traveled quite a bit, playing for fancy occasions and whatnot. There was usually free food involved too, so that was always a bonus. It was just days like today... one of _those_ days that served as a setback on his otherwise decent life. Thankfully he was able to tell the day before it happened so that he could call off any and all appointments without explanation and pretty much just lock himself in his room. Honestly, he would never be able to show his face around these parts if anyone saw him like this.

As John clicked away at the pen, it eventually ended up falling apart in his hands from the repeated cyclic load. It was something his normal self hadn't expected. What kind of pen just falls apart like that...?! Well, one that had been clearly abused, apparently. But the first thought in his currently not-all-there mind was that rather than try to find one of the ten pens that were probably lying around somewhere in his room, he needed to go out and buy a new pen. Getting up from his seat, he apparently had enough sense to hide away the bits of his wings that showed, but didn't think to pull on a shirt before walking over to the door. But when he opened it, he found himself faced with a young girl. And of course, standing there shirtless with a dazed look in his eyes, he decides that the best course of action is to take her hand and kiss the back of it while getting down on one knee to talk to her shoes. "Hello, young miss, you wouldn't know where I could get a pen, do you?"

Standing at his door, shocked and wide-eyed, was a girl with short blonde hair and curious eyes as her hand was taken by that of the man from within the apartment. Rose Lalonde was a very curious girl. If there was something that caught her attention, you could be sure she wouldn't let it die until she knew exactly what it was and what it did. She was observant too, which only made the problem worse as she seemed to simply notice /everything/ around her. It was her inner bookworm that caused her to do this, but only her friends seemed bothered by it. One day, due to these traits, she noticed a light on in an apartment she had previously believed to have been empty. It was nearby to her friend's apartment, and she was leaving after a friendly dinner that evening when she paused and watched for movement inside. There was a part of her that screamed in her mind this was a horrible idea, but she seemed not to hear the voice of her conscience as she made her way up the front steps to the main door of the apartment. It was silent around, spare the faint sound of clicking from within, soon silenced and followed by footsteps towards the door Rose was listening through. When it was opened, Rose became overly shocked and regretted her decision almost immediately. Her eyes had widened slightly at the appearance of this shirtless man, but it was even more surprising to see him greet her in such an old fashioned way. It was the 21st century, but perhaps this guy was just a history buff. None the less, it made her slightly flustered and for an odd reason, end up blushing faintly. When he bent down, she noticed the tattoo even more.

"Uh, hello... I think you can get a pen at a convenience store down the street...." she replied softly, cursing herself for her slight, nervous pausing. Rose had no real reason to be nervous, spare the fact that an undeniably attractive man just opened his door, took her by the hand, and greeted her like an old friend with a line right out of one of her favourite books.

"I see... thank you, you are most helpful." John replied easily, smiling as he got back up. But he didn't go off to the convenience store for his pen. Instead, he stared off into space for about a minute or so, still holding onto her hand. Then, on a completely different note, he spoke up again. "...are you here to hear me play?" He asked, slightly tilting his head. Then before she could even answer, he grinned widely, starting to pull her inside to his apartment. "Oh, why didn't you say so?"

Rose was in shock as this stranger pulled her inside. She had no idea who he was, and worse off, he seemed insane. Yet, she was not fighting back. She did not feel in danger, or in the need to fight back. It was strange for her. Though he was strange, there was a part of her that didn't seem to mind. Because of her job, she had seen almost everyone's face in town, so it was nice seeing an unfamiliar face around. Humming a quiet tune to himself, John pulled the girl into his practice room, which consisted of nothing but a few chairs, a comfy sofa - where he sometimes slept after practices - and an old grand piano. It was old, but he loved the weathered instrument as it played with beatutiful sound. And leaving her at the sofa, he himself sat in front of the piano, uncovering the keys and gently running his fingers over the ivory. Then, after a happy sigh, he positioned his fingers over a random set of chords and began playing. It was completely impromptu, his fingers flying over the keys on a whim. His right hand played out a light, happy melody while his left hammered out dark, dreary and ominous chords. But despite the mismatching elements, they somehow blended together, sounding pleasantly dissonant to his ears. It was absolutely beautiful.... Though Rose could not place the peace, unsure if it even was one, she was able to relax even more around the familiar sound of music being lovingly played around her. She had no idea who this guy was, but she knew he was good, talented and probably naturally gifted with his talent. She began believing perhaps it was a good thing she had arrived on his doorstep. Rose relaxed, listening intently as she watched him, almost studying him.

John played on for several minutes, making subtle changes to the melody as he went on. It felt good. The rhythm, the melody, the vibration of the piano under his fingers as it produced the sounds under his command... but he eventually finished, letting out a satisfied sigh before turning to his one woman audience and giving a grandiose bow. That single woman in his audience smiled softly and clapped politely for him. "That was beautiful, sir." She spoke. It was the truth, as confused as she was, but she refused to deny a man the compliments he deserved.

"Hm, thank you, thank you. You're too kind." John smiled and covered up the piano again before walking over and letting himself sink into the sofa. It was something he always did after playing, reflect on his piece and performance. Except he wasn't really thinking about anything in particular this time. He didn't even quite remember what he'd just played.

Rose looked to him slightly, taking him all in. "Where'd you learn to play like that...?" She was curious. This man was puzzling her with his strange beauty and skills, how he seemed to appear out of no where with the personality, skill and appearance of men from one of her novels and the ability to sweep her into his life. She began thinking this was perhaps a dream, and she truly was only imagining one of her novels. It had happened before, so she knew it was not out of the realm of possibilities, but for John to be so well detailed, made her more hesitant to believe the dream-like scenario, despite how sure she was it couldn't be real.

"Prac-tice." the Nephilim replied, enunciating each syllable and stretching his hands out in front of him. "My mom taught me for the most part. And it's surprising how much free time you have when living in hiding from people that want to kill you." he shrugged nonchalantly before leaning over and resting his head against her shoulder. He hummed quietly. "Mmm... you smell nice."

Rose went tense for a slight moment, confused on who would kill him. He seemed so random and lost, his thoughts jumping absolutely everywhere. Her dream was so unusual, even for her, she questioned what kind of dream she was truly having. It wasn't until she heard John compliment her on smelling nice, that she was brought back from her thoughts. "Thanks... What were you saying though, about people wanting to kill you...?" She asked hesitantly. She was almost afraid of hearing the answer, but Rose believed it was truly her dream, and it helped relax her enough. If it truly was a dream, she thought, then she could control what his answer would be, though she didn't much mind anymore what came out of his mouth.

"Hm? Kill me? Oh, no, they weren't gonna kill _me_. Just my mom. It was illegal for her to have me so we had to live in hiding for most of my life. They let me go easy, though." John replied easily. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Illegal?! Why would it be _illegal_ to have you...?"

"Apparently they're afraid of what I can do. Or something like that. They never really told me."

"What _can_ you do....?" Rose asked,now intrigued, and trying to place the novel her brain was pulling from.

"Eh... not much, really. I never learned what I can do other than play piano, which isn't all that extraordinary. And... well, I guess I have this." John replied nonchalantly. As he finished speaking, the tattoos on his back began glowing white and the feathers began coming to life until eventually both his wings had been completely pulled out, large enough to cover both of them.

Rose's eyes widened slightly, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch his wings. "Woah...... Wings....?"

"Yup. Wings. Every angel has them, though, it's not that big of a deal." John replied, shrugging softly. "I still don't see why they had to kill my mom for it."

"Angel...?! Oh my god...." Rose mumbled, as she gently touched the soft feathers. The girl fully believed this was a dream now, and what an incredible dream it was! She knew she'd have to record it so she'd never forget it.

"God? Well I guess he liked humans, but he's not all that nice to people like me... it's not fair, you know. It's not like I asked for this..." John whined, feeling comfortable enough to wrap his arms around the girl. In a dreamy whisper, he muttered. "...don't leave me."

"I won't leave. I promise...." Rose replied softly. She didn't feel like leaving him, and believing it was a dream felt it best to just allow it to follow it's course.

John hummed happily at her reply, a soft smile appearing on his lips. His wings prompted a slight breeze within the room, comfortingly blowing through his hair. Rose relaxed back a little more as well. She felt safe with him, though she didn't entirely know why. Slowly, she let her eyes close as well. It was pretty late, and she'd had a long day. Before she knew it, she was dozing in his arms, sleeping and smiling happily.

John opened his eyes a little later, finding the girl sleeping. Looking out the window, he saw the darkness of the night, lit only by the few streetlights and a full moon, assuming she had to get home. Turning back to the girl, he gently touched his forehead to hers, reading her memories as she slept to find out where her home was. He was careful not to wake her as he picked her up in his arms and flew out into the night through his window. Rose made a soft noise at being picked up, curling into him slightly against the slight wind of the flight. Eventually, John arrived at Rose's apartment, entering through the window of her room. He tucked her into bed, then left the way he'd came in a quiet, gentle flurry of feathers, leaving Rose to sleep happily and warmly, curled up in her bed.

**Author's Note:**

> All characters do not belong to me, they belong to Andrew Hussie. This idea came from an rp on Cherubplay with a lovely Nephilim!John, who gave me permission to use our chats/his replies.


End file.
